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Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

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Big thanks to: emeraldsilvae, and jeh, and Princey! For you:

Making Choices

Draco woke with a sharp hiss as the first drop of cold rain hit his skin. His head whipped up and he looked around frantically. He was in a narrow alley an adult would have to turn sideways to fit in; there were cars and people, noise, horrible sour smell of garbage and car fumes.

Heart beating fast, Draco curled around Harry, shivering as the rain began to pour down. It was the middle of the day and a cold 61 degrees Fahrenheit that was quickly dropping, although Draco didn't know it. All he knew was that it was cold. They were naked and alone in the middle of January in New York City.

Harry was still unconscious. His ribs showed again. Worse, the little boy's feet were scrapped and raw, bleeding in some places. They were both naked and probably not far from the docks. Raymond might be dead, but the bastard had worked for very powerful people. They'd be after Draco for blood. He and Harry were free, but they were hardly saved. Not yet.

Draco pulled Harry even closer into his arms for warmth. His shoulder throbbed hotly and his own feet were cut to ribbons, but he hardly felt it. Pain didn't really register for him unless it was excruciating. He stared out the mouth of the alley into the curtain of rain at all the blurry shapes and figures rushing past. He had to think of something! He had to take care of Harry.

It didn't take him long to figure out they needed help. His teeth were beginning to chatter and his nose and fingers were numb. He'd have to wait until nightfall when there were less people around to see them. Then he'd get Harry up and moving. Stay out of sight and get further away from the docks. Find a street person; they weren't the type to get police involved.

Draco was pulled from his thoughts as something seemed to press at his head. He shook his head back and forth, his hair flopping wetly around his face. The rain was a loud patter in his ears and it was so damn cold, but something was whispering, distracting him. Feelings... They were feelings.

fear confused - “Draco,” Harry's sweet voice rose as the feelings grew sharper.

Draco was panting, shaking his head back and forth, trying to get the weirdness out of his head.

fear worry - “Dr-draco!” Harry turned in his arms and had his hands on Draco's face, trying to peer into his eyes. His lips were blue and his teeth were chattering, too.

“I'm fine,” he hissed, forcing his head to still and his hands to stop shaking.

pain fear - “Draco, you're in my head. Hear you,” Harry whimpered, green eyes falling closed.

The rain began to slow, thank god! It had been a quick shower, but they were long since drenched. Draco blinked his eyes clear of the water and pressed his forehead firmly to Harry's. His heart pounded a mile a minute. His mind raced and he felt the - pain fear - spike in his head. Holy shit!

“You can feel my feelings, Harry?” he demanded.

“No.” Harry's eyes cracked open. “Hear you talking in my head.”

Draco could feel Harry's feelings, but Harry could hear his thoughts! He had to control it somehow. It was his job to take care of Harry not scare the kid or hurt him. Fisting his hand in Harry's wet hair, he pulled Harry's head back and stared into the boy's face. He felt along the weird feelings, searching for a way to mute his mind, so Harry couldn't hear. He used Harry's pain as a guide.

They were both gasping now. Wisps of steam rose from their bodies. At least they weren't so cold anymore. Draco's arms trembled from the effort, his whole body strung tight as he forced his power to search and map. He pushed everything aside and focused just on that.

He could almost see it, like a hula hoop. The top of the circle was Draco's mind pouring into Harry. The bottom of the circle was Harry's feelings pouring into Draco. Draco wanted to make the top flexible, so that he could pinch off the flow or narrow the tube so only the thoughts Draco wanted would go through.

It felt like trying to bend a steel bar. Draco strained and squeezed down with all his mental might. Hours passed. They were both crying. Draco's nose began to bleed. Until finally the pressure in their minds shifted. Harry's pain disappeared, but the throbbing worry fear remained.

Draco opened his eyes to see that night had long fallen. Their panting breaths clouded the air. It was below freezing now, and the streets were empty at last. Draco held Harry to his chest. The little boy was shaking from the cold. “I f-fixed it. It's quiet again, y-yeah?”

“Y-y-yes, Dr-dr-aco-o,” Harry whispered tearfully, teeth chattering and practically burrowing into Draco's chest.

“But I c-can still t-talk to you. S-see?” Draco focused on the tubing running through the core of his mind like a hot brand. I'm right here, Harry. We'll never be apart again.

love joy - “Dr-draco!” Harry gasped and flung his arms around Draco's neck.

Draco smiled at him and smoothed his hair back from his face. “Let's g-go. We g-gotta find som-someo-one to help us get cl-clothes. And you n-need to eat-t-t.” He stood stiffly and pulled Harry to his feet.

pain - Harry didn't say anything about his feet or the cold, but Draco could feel both biting at the boy. He wished he could carry Harry, but he wasn't that big yet.

Gently, he wrapped himself around Harry from behind, trying to keep the smaller boy warm. It was awkward until they found a rhythm and they almost fell a dozen times. They ran across any open spaces as fast as they could and tried to keep to the shadows and alleys as much as possible. Harry's pained feet and empty stomach beat at Draco harder and harder.

They were exiting their fifth alley when Draco finally saw someone. A skinny older black man was sitting on a stoop of a closed store and leaning against the wall. A battered stuffed duffel sat next to him. He had long dreads and a bunch of mix-matched clothes way too big for his skinny frame. He looked to be sleeping.

Draco pulled Harry so that the little boy was sitting just out of sight of the mouth of the alley. “I'm g-gonna go t-talk to him-m-m. Rest h-here.”

pain trust love - “Yes, Dr-draco.”

Looking both ways to make sure no one else was on the street, Draco reached back to absently pat Harry's head. “G-good b-boy.”

happy

Draco scampered quickly over to the stoop. He crouched down next to the man, drawing his knees to his chest to cover his exposed parts and carefully tugged on the man's sleeve. He smelled, but so did Draco after walking through dirty alleys for the last hour.

xxx

Leon swung his hand out with a wild yell. The dogs were at him again. Blinking, he saw that a kid, not a dog, was crouched next to him, leaning away as far as he could and still stay on the stoop. “The hell!” he growled and pulled his arms in close.

He stared. Damn kid didn't have any clothes on! He also had a busted face, a shoulder that looked like a healing gun wound, and dangerous eyes. This wasn't a normal weepy kid. “The hell?” This time it was a question.

“You g-got-t-t some cl-clothes?” the kid spoke evenly through his chattering teeth, body still tensed to bolt. Poor damn bastard.

“Yeah. Hold on. I got me a sweatshirt ya could wear. Maybe some boxers, but they'll fall right plum off ya.”

“I n-need two.” The boy met Leon's surprised look with an unwavering stare that spoke volumes. “If y-you got-t-t 'em to spar-re.”

Leon nodded and pulled his duffle toward him. He'd be giving the boy half of what he owned, but it wasn't like he could let the kid run around bare. “How big you need it?” he asked.

“The smallest-t-t you got-t.”

Leon shook his head. What the hell was the world coming to that two naked kids were running around the city looking beat to hell in the dead of night in the middle of January no less!?

He pulled out his two smallest sweatshirts. One was grey, but it had originally been white. It was thread-bare, soft, worn almost to pieces. The other was bright orange with a tropical bird of some restaurant. Leon had known why it had ended up at the Goodwill. It was god awful. Leon wore it as little as possible, so it was in better condition than the grey, but it was still stained and worn.

The kid slipped on the grey sweatshirt with a quiet. “Th-thank you.”

Leon handed over his only other pair of boxers. They stank a bit and were crumpled. The kid didn't even hesitate and tried to slip them on, but just as Leon had guessed they slid right off no matter what the kid did. He gave them back and Leon slid them into his bag. That's when he noticed the kid's feet. They were torn and bleeding.

“Boy, ya gotta take care of them feet or ya ain't gonna make it long,” he said worriedly.

The boy stood. He didn't even wince. The worn grey sweatshirt fell off one shoulder, but it covered the boy at least. It fell to just above the kid's knobby knees and well past his hands. Boy couldn't be older than five. Shit.

“I'll b-b-be f-fine,” the kid said, holding the ugly orange shirt to him as if afraid Leon was gonna yank it back.

“Fine,” Leon snorted. “Ya got a plan there, kid? Where ya gonna eat? Or sleep? Dogs be around. They get ya if you're not careful. And those feet gonna get infected real fast. Gonna go to yer heart or head and kill ya right dead.”

Grey eyes met his in a way that no kid had ever looked at him before. “You g-got advic-ce? I'll h-hear it.”

“Well shit.” Leon shifted unhappily. “There's shelters and soup kitchens, but people ain't gonna let you go when they see yer alone.” It was clear as day that the kid was running from serious shit. Still, the kid wouldn't make it alone. His voice softened, trying to convince the poor boy. “But maybe that ain't a bad thing. At least for a few more years 'til you get taller and big enough for some kinda work.”

“What would-d happen if I went-t-t there?” the kid asked.

Leon couldn't lie. “I guess they'd be calling the cops. They'd ask you where yer folks were and what happened. They'd likely take ya to a hospital all banged up like that. Then find some place for ya to stay. People to look after ya at least a little.” Leon sighed sadly. “Could be a good deal or ya could get unlucky.”

The kid grinned. He had straight tiny teeth. It wasn't a happy look. “I'm guess-sing-g unlucky.”

Leon shrugged. “Look. Ya can't make it on the streets. Not as ya are. Yer naked. The nights are gonna freeze ya out. Gonna get real sleepy-like. The shivers'll stop and ya'll feel good. Then ya'll go ta sleep and never wake again. That's the facts. Gonna haveta take yer chances with the coppers.”

The kid shook his head, but didn't run off. He stood there shivering and bare foot in Leon's sweatshirt. Finally, he lifted his eyes and made eye contact again. “Know-w how I can fi-fnd someone if I onl-ly g-got a n-nam-me?”

“Ya got somewhere to go?” Leon asked hopefully.

The kid only stared at him, and Leon knew the boy wouldn't be telling him personal information like that. This was one wary brat. He sighed again and pointed down the street.

“Ya go down there and take a left. There's a convenience store. It gots a payphone and a book. Some pages be torn out, but ya could try. If ya find their name, then their number will be there and ya can call.”

The kid stared harder than ever and Leon shifted uncomfortably. But then the boy looked away. Leon followed his gaze and his mouth almost fell open. Another little boy, naked but not beaten like the blond, was scuttling over to them.

The blond had the orange sweatshirt ready, and as soon as the boy was within reach, he tugged it over the boy's head. It fell past the kid's knees and almost off both shoulders. It was almost low enough to show the kid's nipple.

Green eyes flashed up at him shyly as the first boy took the too long sleeves and tied them up around the boy's neck like a scarf. The boy wouldn't be able to use his arms, but the cold was deadly and they had already been out in it too long.

“Th-thank-k y-you-u,” the little dark-haired boy chattered shyly.

Leon flapped his hand, still shocked about everything. “There ain't more of ya, is there?” he demanded.

The blond shook his head. “No. Look. I can't r-read, so could ya h-help-p me look for a n-name in that book-k-k you was talkin-ing about?”

“Shit.” Leon stared at the two lost kids and sighed. “Yeah. Guess I will.” He grabbed his duffle.

As they made their way down the street, Leon was on high alert. He didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea or dogs to attack. Even so, he made sure to walk slow. A glance over his shoulder showed him that the blond was staring stoically ahead. He had the green-eyed boy by the hand. The other kid had his head low, either from pain or exhaustion, maybe both.

There was a street lamp by the phone booth. Good thing the kids had shirts on. They still looked a right mess, but it was better than being naked. He winced as the bright orange sweatshirt practically glowed in the night. He quickly grabbed the book, eyeing the store clerk inside the convenience store warily.

“What's the name?” he demanded.

The blond was at his elbow, trying to watch everything he did. “Bren-ndon O'Shea-a.”

“Shit,” he said again. There was gonna be at least a couple of names like that. He found the right page and grimaced. “Got ten of 'em.”

Grey eyes stared up at him. “Sh-show me and I'll cal-all.”

“Ya haveta have money to call unless yer callin' collect.”

“Show-w-w me-e.”

Deon did so: 18002655328, then the phone number. Giving the kids privacy, he stood with his back to the booth. He was careful to block the view of the clerk so the man couldn't see the kids. Didn't need him calling the police when the boys were close to getting help. Damn kid was smart, too. Memorized the 1.800.Collect number right fast.

“Dr-draco,” he heard the kid say.

Leon grinned. Draco meant dragon. Seeing how the kid was banged up and the other one was just fine if half-starved, he bet the name fit perfectly. Protective and possessive as hell probably fit the kid to a T.

…

Draco listened to the phone ring. - hunger pain trust cold – washed through him in gentle waves. Harry was leaning against his side. He was staring at the phonebook curiously. Draco made a note that Harry would need schooling.

The first number declined to accept the call. The second and third didn't answer. The fourth declined. He could see the man outside the booth beginning to get shifty. His head was darting around, and he was beginning to mutter to himself. Something about dragons. A check on Harry told him he wasn't alarmed by the man's weird behavior. He was still interested in the book.

“Hello?” The voice was definitely the buyer's from the night before.

“You told me your name,” Draco said and it took all his willpower not to chatter. “What do you want?”

“Just thought you should have it.” There was a pause. “I'm willing to grant you shelter. I have enough favors I can pull to hide you good enough the mob won't find you. In exchange, I'm going to have you clean the private rooms where not so legal stuff happens. Employees aren't trustworthy enough. The club makes me a fortune, but I hate cleaning.”

Draco said nothing.

“Cleaning and nothing else. Now, it's not going to be an easy job, but you'll live free of charge in my guest room in the small apartment above the club. You'll mostly have the place to yourself. I only crash there if I get held up at the club really late. I prefer my penthouse downtown.”

Draco swallowed hard. His hand was holding the phone cord so tightly that his fingers where white. Was this a trap? Another Hold? He was so cold, colder than on the Hold even at it's coldest, and Harry's hunger pressed at him like something alive. The black man's warning that the cold would put them to sleep and then kill them rang in his head.

“You can come and go as you please. If you don't like the arrangement, you can take off.”

Draco wanted to scream. It sounded alright, but what if it was all a lie? He closed his eyes tight and thought back to their escape. It was still so vivid in his mind. Brendon had been strange. He'd been different. Breath leaving him in a loud rush, Draco decided he'd have to try it. If the worst happened, he'd stage another murder and escape.

“O-okay-y.”

“Where are you?” Brendon asked.

Draco looked to the homeless man who was practically dancing, he was so anxious. “Where are-re we?”

“9^th Ave and West 23^rd Street,” the man answered, voice a whisper. “A few blocks east of Chelsea Piers.”

Brendon chuckled, the laugh warm and genuine. “Almost made your way right to me. I'm right around the corner. I'll be there in about five minutes.”

The phone went dead and Draco hung it back on it's cradle. He told the man they were going to be picked up, and the man pointed at a darkened nook off to the side of the convenience store. Draco nodded.

“Th-thanks,” he said. “F-for all the h-help.” It burned him that he needed it, from this guy and from Brendon, but he didn't let it show. Harry was staring up at him – happy hungry cold – and he didn't want worry him.

The man grinned, revealing several missing teeth. “Good luck, boys,” he whispered and hurried away.

Draco pulled Harry after him and they sat against the building in the shadows. Harry crawled into his lap and Draco wrapped him up as best he could, pulling the sweatshirt over the boy's stick-thin legs and feet. Harry was asleep in seconds, tremors quaking through his small body constantly.

Draco sighed and held Harry close, keeping a lookout. The sweatshirt was itchy but comforting. It had been two years probably since he'd worn clothes, and it was weird to be out in the open. There were so many lights even this late. And a lot of sounds, too: cars and trains. He could even hear the hum of the electricity in the store. The shit and piss smell was the same, though.

A car pulled up fast. It was black and quieter than other cars. Draco knew instantly it was Brendon's before he even saw the man. Sure enough, Brendon stepped out, shut the door and leaned against the door with his arms-crossed. He wore grey slacks tonight and a thick, black sweater that fit him perfectly.

Wake up, Harry. Time to go.

The boy blinked awake with a large yawn – hunger cold curiosity. “Draco?”

Draco smoothed Harry's ruffled hair from his face. “We're g-gonna go with this-s guy for a littl-le bit, and I'm g-gonna get-t ya someth-thin-in to eat.”

Harry just nodded, still shaking – hunger happy cold.

Draco gripped Harry's chin, forcing the boy to meet his eyes. “You k-keep your eyes on me-e. Don't talk-k to him at al-ll. That's my j-job.”

trust love - “Yes-s, Dr-drac-co.”

“G-good.” Draco leaned forward and kissed him quickly.

happy

Brendon watched as they came out of the shadows. He kept his eyes on Draco, which Draco appreciated, and they came to a stop just out of arm's reach. Brendon nodded his head, like he had on the boat, and opened the back door for them. Draco peered inside; it was empty.

He shot Brendon a hard look. “The th-thing with Raymond-d wasn't a fl-fluke. I can kill-l ya any tim-me.”

Brendon stared hard at the little boy staring defiantly up at him. “How did you manage that, if I may ask?” - Had it been a weird allergy that Draco had known about, or had the boy managed to hold some poison in his mouth, waiting for that moment to bite his skin and infect the man? Although the last was pretty unbelievable. Any poison that potent would have killed Draco, too.

The boy grinned, flashing his teeth, which cattered with cold. It was a remarably fierce look. “I'm p-pois'nous. Like a snak-ke.”

Brendon had no idea what to think. He'd seen it with his own eyes, but it was still shocking. In the end, he shrugged. He'd seen some really bizarre, fucked-up things in the world. This was just one more. “That's definitely unique, but I could kill you, too. I'm not going to, though. And you're not going to kill me.” He flashed a grin of his own. “We're too rare to waste. It'd be a shame. Now come on before all the heat escapes.”

Draco gave the man one last warning glare before he climbed inside, pulling Harry after him. Instantly he was wrapped in almost painful heat. As soon as Brendon shut the door and was in the driver's seat, he made his first demand.

“I need f-food. Right n-now.”

“Sure,” Brendon answered easily. He put the car in drive and peeled out of the parking lot, making Draco and Harry come up hard against the door.

Draco glared at the back of Brendon's head as he showed Harry how to put on his seatbelt. His hands were clumsy, throbbing painfully as they slowly defrosted.

“I hate cooking,” Brendon said, voice cheery. “I'll order Chinese. After tonight, you'll have to figure that stuff out for yourself. The fridge is always stocked, but I'm not going to cook for you.”

“I c-can cook-k,” Harry whispered, looking up at Draco uncertainly – pain eager.

Draco was pleasantly surprised. He smiled at the boy and pet his hair. “That's g-good. I can't c-cook either.”

relief hunger happy need

Draco continued to pet Harry's head, hoping to calm the boy and watched the world fly by. It had been so long since he'd seen anything except for the inside of that damn boat. Draco grit his teeth and vowed he'd never be trapped again. Not ever again.

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Freedom Bound in Chains